Jack the Action Figure
by Geheimnis
Summary: Jack Sparrow: suave, sultry ... seven inches tall. Join him in his quest to take the toy store by force! Chapter Six: 'Only a toy,' Jack reminded himself wildly. 'Clay and paint – and clay and paint can’t be killed.'
1. Eighteen NinetyNine

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter One – Eighteen Ninety-nine**

_What he knows, though he can't explain why:_

18.99! Hat, pistol, sword and rum bottle included!

_What he remembers, though he can't remember when:_

The world lurches, and: "Eighteen ninety-nine? Brilliant! I didn't even know they made these – and his hat's included! Grab my wallet out of my pack, will you?" Blurred blue eyes align with his. He cannot help but return the stare.

"Fantastic! He even _looks_ like him!"

_What he sees, though he can't believe how:_

Walls of white are thrown up on all sides of him, and a coil of paper that is nearly his size is shaken down inside the white just to his left. His center of gravity shifts unpleasantly, and he feels as though he is being swung like a pendulum. He strains to hear, and as the light shifts and becomes brighter, he thinks that he hears a woman laughing.

A tinkle of fine metal on metal, and suddenly the air is dim and cool and he is still. There is one slam and after a pause there is another. He is moved and brought into the light again.

A face – the same one as before and undeniably that of a young woman – looms before him. He tries to extract features, but the vision is oddly out of focus, and he can only discern blue smudges of eyes and a red, heart-shaped mouth. If not for the paralysis that he cannot explain, Jack Sparrow, pirate, might have smiled. She does.

* * *

Author's Note – This story is inspired by The Incredibles movie which inspired me to watch the Toy Story movie (again) which inspired me to take a critical look at the Jack Sparrow action figure propped up beside my computer screen. I know what he's thinking.

More to come! Review!


	2. Plastic Pirate

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter Two – Plastic Pirate**

Jack woke from sleep, but as per old habits carved into the polished wood of his brain by time and unpleasant experience, he kept his eyes decisively shut. He would have also tried to keep his breathing slow and even in order to disguise the fact that he was no longer sleeping, but he didn't feel any rise or fall of his chest in the first place. Strange.

He felt warm without being uncomfortable and air was moving over him gently. He paid close attention to the smells around him and they were equally strange: nowhere was the sharpness of alcohol nor any of the deep, thick aroma of sweat, smells by which Jack could often place himself without opening his eyes. The air, instead, was lightly perfumed, as though a woman had recently walked by. He heard, when he strained, soft female whispers, occasional giggles, then once: the word _pirate_.

He was being watched.

Jack ventured a pretend sleep-twitch. His arm moved freely and no longer seemed to be bound at the elbow as it had been in what – he could only conclude – had been a dream. This was a good thing. A better thing, he discovered as he moved his other arm, was that his pistol was in his hand. The familiar weight of it at the end of his fingers always slowed his racing heart. His eyebrows twitched together at that – racing heart? Now that he thought on it, he couldn't actually feel –

"Captain Sparrow!"

Jack yelped in surprise and his eyes flew open. Habit kept the gun in his hand, but he would have fallen over in shock if not for two things. Firstly, he opened his eyes to find himself standing upright. His booted feet were bound at the ankles and along his calves, and so he _remained_ standing upright. The second was that he froze immediately, because there was nothing before him but what seemed to be empty space and, as confirmed by a downward flick of the eyes, a sheer drop. His eyes snapped shut.

"What's goin' _on_!" roared Jack. His shook his pistol over his head and nearly knocked off his hat. "I swear by all salt that if this situation is not _immediately_ remedied, there'll be hell t' pay!" He pointed his pistol about in what he hoped were threatening directions. His finger sought out the trigger.

He was met with a not-unfriendly rumble of a laugh. "Ease up there, small friend. I don't think you're in much of a position to pay anyone." This was followed by female titters, and Jack opened one eye and looked about. The drop before him was a substantial one, but he craned his neck a little farther and saw a –

"White monstrosity! Furry villain! What's th' meaning 'o such entrapment!" He struggled slightly to demonstrate. "And how is it that you know my name?" The immense, white, fur-covered creature stood and scooted backwards in order to keep eye contact without Jack needing to lean forward. It was a dog.

Jack was regarded – as well as possible, past the mass of fur – by a great brown eye. The dog spoke again. "Peace, plastic pirate. You'll get nowhere without some help. And help is only for the well-adjusted." He chuckled again. "Your feet are bound because you are meant to stand. I know your name because I pay attention to The Girl's grocery bags." A white stump of a tail swished back and forth over the carpet. "More often than not, something in those bags is for me!"

"And am I one of those things? Am I to be cast into your great mouth? I mean, that's got t' be the meaning of a word such as _plastic_!" He struggled again, and looked to his belt for his cutlass "Help! I am a sacrifice! I am a plastic!"

The dog laughed again, and the female audience that Jack could not place laughed as well. "Being plastic doesn't mean you're to be eaten. It means – it's what you're made of." Jack stopped his and his eyes grew wide.

"Is that an insult? Why, sir," he cried down to the white dog, "I'll not stand to be insulted in such a way! I'm made of 'nought but steel and salt, good monster, and that shall be proven if you release me from these cowardly bonds!" Jack looked down at his boots and saw that a strange, transparent iron had been clapped over each ankle. He tried to bend forward to reach them, but his normally limber movement was impeded by a stiff object that ran up the back of his bottom, along up the small of his back, and cinched him around the waist. What devices were these?

The dog stood, its tail wagging freely. "You're an energetic one, I'll give you that," he rumbled. "But enough play for now. The Girl will be home from College soon, and we can't have you shrieking and carrying on when she gets here." Without warning, the dog stood upon his hind legs and placed his paws somewhere below the surface where Jack was standing. Jack, badly startled by the dog's sudden eyelevel with him, dropped his gun.

Now that the great dog was close, Jack could see his eyes clearly. One was slightly milky, like an old man's. But the eyes were rolling now. "No, no. Don't drop anything. She'll think you've been played with by someone." Jack's gun was carefully taken in the dog's teeth, and held within his reach. Jack took hold of it, awash in warm, rank breath.

"Who's The Girl?" The dog's nose twitched.

"You're Hers now. Just like all the other models and things she's collected over the years. Now you'd better –"

The dog had leapt heavily down and was beginning to trot away. "_Toys_? You mean playthings for babes?" Terrible realization was beginning to dawn on the pirate Captain. Perhaps – perhaps not a dream?

"Oh no, not at all," the dog said over his shoulder. "You're completely different - "

Jack heaved a relieved sigh and had decided to find a maker to thank, when the dog finished: "You're collectable."

* * *

Author's Note – it's obscene how much writing I get done at certain times of the year, say, finals time. Many thanks to my reviewers! 

That's right, _aaidenkae,_ now we know what they're thinking. I'd watch out for Legolas – he strikes me as a randy sort of fellow. Thanks _Sweetlilbee_ for continued fanship, but I guess that's kind of hard to avoid when you live in the room next to mine (which means I know where you sleep if you don't review ). Thanks, _Calliope Foster,_ for the kind words, and I will certainly try to keep things entertaining for you. And finally, _CaptainTish_, it sounds like you didn't think this was a continuing saga! I hope you come back for more! And thanks!

_As always, more to come!_


	3. Frigid the Metrosexual Penguin

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter Three – Frigid the Metrosexual Penguin**

_No_.

_Because it isn't possible._

The old white dog had disappeared around a corner, but Jack was no longer paying attention. It was only by virtue of his semi-curled fingers that his pistol remained in his hand: his body and jaw had gone completely slack. His vision wasn't focused and his shoulders were slumped.

A great many things had happened to him over the years, to Captain Jack Sparrow – pirate, scallywag, rogue of the wet blue deserts, the man who had a criminal charges list longer than his arm. _Well_, he thought, lifting and examining an arm, _per'aps not any more_. And of all the things that had happened to him, in every circumstance, he had been able to take control of the situation – or at least make it look like he had – and come out of it with a gold-tipped grin. This case, it seemed, was more than a little different.

Was he really a … a toy?

He couldn't be.

Because it wasn't possible.

He remembered everything about his past – he remembered Will and Elizabeth and damned Barbossa and the Pearl. He remembered his childhood! He remembered the ocean! He remembered the way his lips tasted of salt when - Jack found himself flailing, mentally. How could he not be himself? _My tattoos!_ he thought suddenly. _The scars on me arm and chest!_ Eager for visual proof of his certainties, he dropped his pistol and tried to open his jacket with both hands.

There was something strange about it. His coat looked the same, but under his hands the material was slick and pliable. Below the middle of his chest, his jacket would not open at all. Suddenly needing to see the tattoo that was his namesake, he attempted to roll up his coat sleeves, but though he could feel his arms moving and flexing beneath them, the sleeves would not move. It was as though they were adhered to his very skin. His hands began to shake.

There, on that shelf, Jack Sparrow began to quail …

… until the appearance of the penguin gave him something else to think about.

On the corner edge of the shelf in front of Jack, suddenly and startling him badly, appeared two black rounded flippers. They were eventually followed by a black head and a black and white body as the creature before Jack's wide eyes heaved itself completely onto the shelf with a honk of effort. It got to its feet and straightened up – and padded straight to Jack.

The pirate cursed himself for dropping his pistol and slapped about on his belt for the hilt of his sword. The creature approached until one large, black, orange-ringed eye was level with Jack's own. Realizing that he was trapped and presently without a weapon, Jack decided to try a new tactic.

"_Waaaaarrrh!_" he bellowed suddenly at the creature and waved his arms. "_Bwwwaaaaarrhh!_" The creature looked properly astonished for a moment, and then raised one feathery yellow eyebrow.

"Um," it said.

"You're supposed to be _scared_ of me!" cried a furious Jack. "I'm loud an' intimidating! You're supposed to be – look! A distraction!" He pointed suddenly over the shoulder of the black and white creature, who turned its head obligingly. Jack fumbled at his belt one last time and with a shout of triumph found the hilt to draw his sword.

"Ha-_ha_!" he cried as the creature turned back to him. He cut a few vicious swipes in the air. "Ha-_ha_!"

"I did hear you the first time," the creature said politely, "but I suppose I'll let you continue on as long as you like. We've nothing if not time, after all." Jack was decidedly not listening and used his sword to poke the creature's brilliant red beak. The beak depressed slightly, but to Jack's horror, his sword bent more.

"Are you finished?" inquired the creature. Its voice was slightly nasally, and it seemed to pay no attention to the attempted skewering from Jack. The pirate, momentarily defeated, dropped his sword arm to his side. The creature smiled and then launched into a lilting singsong: "_Waddling on the slippery ice, Frigid thinks the cold is nice – he jumps into the water below, then does it again, he loves it so!_"

Jack stared.

"That's who I am. Frigid the Penguin. I would show you where it says that," the penguin continued, "but you'll just have to take my word for it, because there's a Tag Protector over my tag. See?" He lifted his left flipper, and Jack could see a large, red heart with the letters _t_ and _y_ in white beneath a shining, transparent shield. "I'm authentic," Frigid remarked with a certain amount of smugness. He leaned forward and spoke to Jack in a low, confidential voice. "There's one or two Beanie Babies The Girl has that aren't authentic. I don't think she knows, but can you _imagine_ being a replica?" He flapped a flipper in Jack's direction before going on.

"But that's not why I'm here. We can gossip later, if you're that type," he said with a wink. "I'm not saying that _I'm_ the gossiping type, but I'm especially not saying that I'm not." For one of the few times in his life, Jack found himself completely dumbfounded and unable to respond. Not that it mattered, because Frigid the Penguin was blithely continuing:

"I came over because I saw ol' man Buster talking to you. That means you must be a newbie." Frigid patted Jack on the shoulder. "Your eyes look half screaming, friend. I know things are a little too wiggly to swallow right now, but believe me, you'll find out that you've got it good. I've known Girl for a long time, let me tell you, and she's one of the greats." He puffed himself up importantly. "Especially to collectables like us, honey."

Jack managed a word. "Buster."

"Yessir, Buster the Dog." The last word came out sounding like _dawg_. "He's a decent fella, old and set in his ways, but such is age, isn't it?" The ease and friendliness with which the penguin was speaking to him made Jack relax slightly. That and the fact that Frigid was a plushie – they do that. "Anyways, I know how it goes being new, and I wanted to show you something that might help out, you know? Help calm down the freakies a lil' bit. So just follow me."

Jack spoke before the penguin could turn away. "Legs? I can't move 'ere."

"Oh!" Frigid seemed surprised. "Oh those! Plastic display stands, kiddo, no worry there. Just lift your feet up and out, together. Those things are easy to defeat if you just remember that they're made to stop you from kicking _out_, not that I've ever been _in_ one, mind you." He patted his soft and plump white tummy with both flippers. "My physique just won't allow it!"

Bracing himself against the cinch around his waist, Jack carefully drew himself up and out of the transparent restraining device and hopped to the ground. He stretched his legs, and, while Frigid was turned away, deftly scooped his pistol up and into his belt. When the penguin asked if he was ready, he nodded, still shaky.

"Just follow Frigid here, and maybe things will be put into perspective for you." Frigid and Jack wordlessly made their way down to the end of the shelf, and using various piles of clutter to climb on, made their way upwards to the very top of what Frigid called _the bookcase_.

At that great, dizzying height, Jack stood and took the room in:

A porcelain, leopard-spotted piggy bank happily wiggled its nose and swished its full belly of change. A furry stuffed gorilla had a colorful flowered lai draped around its neck and was twisting it about in am attempt to make a headband. An entire shelf, dedicated to hobbits and orcs in miniature arranged on hills and plains formed from painted flowerpots, was buzzing with chatter and challenges. On either side of a line of books on the shelf below, two large stone owl bookends blinked their enormous yellow eyes and clicked a greeting with their polished beaks. In a hammock hanging in a corner of the room were a colorful number of Frigid's fellow Beanie Babies (both authentic and replicated) and a fat Pikachu doll that waved a small paw. Finally, a long glass enclosure that rang the length of the wall furthest from the pirate housed a myriad of branches, upon which two mouse-like degus perched, alert and interested.

But of course Jack didn't see _those_ things. Jack was a scallywag. And it's not that he panicked – probably – it's just that what he saw was rather different:

"You'll mind to keep your spotty, diseased hide to yerself, you swine!" Jack cried to the crestfallen piggy bank.

"I can run my sword straight through yer furred hulk, see if I can't!" He waved his sword in the direction of the startled gorilla.

"Your numbers might be great," he shouted to the tiny hobbits and orcs, who abruptly stopped their talk, "but we'll see how many of ye I can crush under my boot-heel before I'm swarmed!"

He glowered at the massive stone owls, who clicked their beaks in dismayed surprise: "I'd like t' see if ye can get your thick bodies airborne! Vultures! _This_ pirate's bones shall not be picked today!"

"Yellow villain!" Jack bellowed at Pikachu, who pouted. "Villain with eyes as small and black as tar-spots and red cheeks that tell of the blood you drink! Oh yes! I see you there, in the shadowed corner!"

"And you," he finished, turning his attention to the degus. He was nearly out of breath. "You … you – I don't even know what you are!" With an effort, he leveled his pistol at them. "But I know what _this_ is, and you'd be wise to learn of it as well!" Each degu twitched her ears at the sound of his voice, but continued to regard him with shining dark eyes.

There was a sigh from Frigid beside him. "Well, now that you've tired yourself out and alienated the entirety of the room populace, maybe we should try something different."

"Well you know what it is that they say about first impressions." Jack muttered. Surprised, Frigid shook his head and the yellow feathers above his eyes swayed. "Buy everyone a round of strong drink and ye get to start again." Frigid honked with laughter and Jack, nervously at first, found himself beginning to join in with the penguin.

And that was when The Girl strolled into the room.

* * *

Author's Note – _The line "your eyes look half screaming" is not mine, but comes from V.S. Naipaul's novel Guerrillas. I just think it's a really neat line. But in all honesty, using that line has been the first time I have used my expensive university learning in the real world. Right there. You got to see it. Please read it again if you like – then someone will get my money's worth._

_And many thanks to:_

Poor _AaidenKae_ – you have a troll in your attic as well! What a well-populated home you have, but maybe Pippin could help out with that. Thanks for the kind words _Spoofmaster_, and I will try very hard to contain my insane jealously at the fact that you have an Ichabod action figure – maybe he could make an appearance here! I agree with you, _Hobbit Lass_, when you say that the Bilbo figure is scary. It is. It totally is. I'm glad you're still enjoying yourself, _CaptainTish_, and _LinLin_ … how can I thank such a fantastically avid reader? _Raistlin _and _Bee_, it's always good to have motivating people that live close to you and – er, with you. And lastly, thanks for the encouragement _Chem_, and yes _Jennifer!_ You can get the action figures! Jack, Will, Barbossa and a random pirate. They're fantastic and they do look like who they're meant to! And I'm just as interested as you in what crazy things ole Jack is going to do next.

_More to come!_


	4. Plush Blue Ocean

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter Four – Plush Blue Ocean**

Frigid the Beanie Baby penguin startled Jack very badly when The Girl strolled into the room, and so our pirate really can't be blamed for what happened next. As stout and as steel-sinewed as pirates generally are, particularly the one in question, there inevitably comes a time when certain situations invoke more stress than an individual has resources to deal with. Results can vary when this happens – some people burst into tears, some people become inconsolably angry, and some people freeze up completely. Looking back on what happened, it probably would have been a much better idea for Jack to do the latter.

As it was, all Jack Sparrow did was momentarily lose his center of gravity.

And so, when Frigid stifled a surprised squeal by clapping both soft flippers over his plush beak and then hissed for Jack to _do like him_, Jack thought that he was going to do all right. However, after observing Frigid's orange-ringed eyes go glassy and the penguin's body stiffen and fall backwards with an inaudible _plop_ onto the shelf, his own attempt didn't turn out that way. Instead, Jack – straight of body and glassy of eye – tumbled _forward_ and off of the top of the bookcase.

He landed in the ocean.

Or what he thought was the ocean, anyway. In reality, it was the deep blue plush carpeting of The Girl's room, but Jack had had precious little experience with deep blue plush carpeting until this moment, and for the first long seconds after he landed in it he felt as though he were drowning in dark, warm waters. Before he could cry out, however – a feat not possible in true warm dark waters but all too possible in deep blue plush carpeting – he was seized about the middle and hauled into the air.

"A draft," said The Girl, "is the bane of the interior decorator." Jack was perfectly still, though whether that was due to shock or wisdom is entirely debatable. He was rotated in a gentle, warm hand, and brought up to her eye level. Parts and pieces of an unreal dream returned to him then, particularly the image of smudged blue eyes, but the eyes with which he was regarded were merry and clear. They, and The Girl, were smiling. There may then have been another explanation for the pirate's paralysis – Jack, lover of women, found himself all-encompassed by one.

"Well, if you're going to tumble out of your stand whenever a breeze comes through the window, I'm going to have to put you somewhere else." At the edges of his vision, the entirety of the room was still – the leopard piggy-bank that he could almost see was frozen with its snout in the air, and the iridescent yellow eyes of the bookend owls were unblinking. The Girl continued. "But that's going to have to wait, sweetheart. It's home from school and I've got to go to the '_loo_ – be patient a second."

She carefully placed him on the shelf, standing up against an owl bookend. Her brow furrowed momentarily – "Dusty!" she remarked, running a finger over the owl's etched feathers before she went. Jack, leaning so close to the owl, fancied that he heard a rapturous, soft sigh, and as The Girl made her way out of the room, both owls tilted their heads to watch her.

"No hate for the overlord, eh?" said Jack when she was gone. The owl turned its head back towards him. Its yellow eyes were slightly narrowed, and Jack remembered his previous brash comment.

"Listen, friend, I'd like to apologize for the whole _vulture_ thing. I admit my mistakes. I spoke out of fear." He glanced back up at the top of the bookcase he had been standing on with Frigid. "But I really can't be _blamed_, can I? I mean – way up there … perception's a little different, ain't it?" The opposite owl poked its head around the mass of books to regard Jack. It hooted, a trifle dryly.

"Both of you are impressive examples of the avian form, truly!" His eyes flicked momentarily to the owl's great talons. "And – and I certainly hope that my silly outburst doesn't prevent us from becoming excellent acquaintances. Honestly, my bones feel perfectly safe around you. Perfectly." Both owls shrugged their great, folded wings, then:

"Jack! Are you all right?" Jack turned and saw Frigid peering at him from up at the top of the bookcase.

"I'm fine mate – er, penguin," he called back. He looked around. "But what am I supposed to do now?"

"Just stay there, darlin'," Frigid returned. "The Girl'll be back soon and she'll put you somewhere nice, no worries there." The Beanie Baby's comment gave Jack pause. He was to wait? He was to be tucked away somewhere? His hands slapped his hips. One cutlass. One pistol. Excellent.

He shouted back to Frigid. "Why? Why've I got to sit and be put on display?" Frigid, slightly taken aback, did not respond immediately, and before he could, The Girl had returned. This took Jack by surprise – he had been turned away from her and had not heard her footfalls in the thick carpet. He realized that he was neither in the place, nor position, that she had left him in.

She, however, did not seem to notice. She walked easily by and absent-mindedly withdrew some coins form her pocket. She dropped them, one by one, into an evidently extremely pleased porcelain piggy bank, but Jack noticed that the boar made no move at all, and the owls had fallen silent behind him. Frigid, too, was gone.

To hold such dominion over such formidable creatures! Jack was almost impressed. He studied her back and took in the simple blue coat she was wearing. He also took in her youth. _To keep us all here and quiet_, he mused, _must take an extraordinary amount of power._ There came a tinkling, and Jack looked over to see the old white dog – Buster – amble into the room. His brown eyes lifted to meet Jack's, but he too remained silent. Jack was amazed. He turned to an owl bookend as The Girl removed her coat, her back to him.

"That dog," he said softly, making the owl's enormous eyes further widen with surprise at the audacity of his speech, "is easily half of her size! And her back is turned! That she's a beauty makes no difference when it comes to being kept prisoner, does it?"

The owl was speechless – and an owl – and did not know what to say. Its eyes flicked from Jack to The Girl, and Jack smiled at its clear panic. He was talking – he was _moving_ – while she was in the room! That wasn't all he could do. No, that wasn't all he _would_ do when his freedom was an issue. Not by far. With the same roguish smile on his face, Jack cupped his ringed fingers around his mouth in the silence of the room. And shouted. "Have you got the time of _day_ by any chance, love?"

Startled, The Girl whirled around.

* * *

Author's Note - 

_Muchas gracias to:_

_I can never express the gratitude I have towards continually returning readers – such as _CaptainTish, The Hobbit Lass _and _AaidenKae_ – readers like you guys make the fanfic writing process worthwhile to continue, no foolies. _Sweetlilbee_, I'm glad you liked the chapter, and I'm especially glad you liked the little story I wrote (and coughPOSTEDcough) before I wrote this new chapter and I'm glad you weren't all that mad about how distracted I can get. Sorry to keep you so long in suspense _Greenleaf_, but I just write down ideas as they come to me (and my summer job is being less than awesome right now, grrr) and _Sereture_, extra points for the name recognition – it means 'mystery' or 'secret' in German, and I'm a German gal, too, though I live in Canada! I always thought that the word looked very pretty._

_As always and always, more to come! Please review! It is the ranch dip to the chicken wing that is my ego!_


	5. Flipped

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter Five – Flipped**

When The Girl turned, her eyes were wide and her brow was furrowed. "Who – "

Immediately, Buster started to bark wildly and Jack found one of his arms forcibly clasped in a sharp beak. Before he could open his mouth again, the pirate was buffeted by a heavy wing and swept backwards. He had just enough time to see The Girl half-smile with relief and crouch down to stroke the elderly white dog – then he was tossed gracelessly into a shadowed corner of the bookshelf. When he tried to rise, a foot of stone and talon was placed squarely on his chest, and he could not move. When his chest heaved with an effort to shout again, the owl's foot shifted until a cold toe covered his face and mouth. It was there that he remained while The Girl reprimanded herself aloud for forgetting that it was '_nearly Buster's suppertime'_ and followed the dog's cantering steps through the doorway. The room was deadly quiet following her departure, but the silence only lasted for a moment.

The first sound was Jack's bellow of surprise and rage when the owl bookend hauled him from behind the book pile in the corner and into the light again – and kept hauling until he was airborne and deftly flipped off of the shelf entirely. He landed in a heap in the blue carpeting and sprang to his feet.

The voices began at once and Jack was assaulted by a cacophony of shouts from characters spread throughout the room: there were unbecoming words from the collection of brightly colored Beanie Babies in the corner (how such innocent looking creatures had acquired such nasty vocabulary was completely beyond him), Pikachu growled menacingly, and there was a brief shower in his direction of miniature plastic weaponry from the Lord of the Rings diorama shelf. The owls were silent and staring, which was unsettling, but when coupled with the watchful dark eyes of the chattering degus, Jack was nearly unnerved completely. He looked up to see Frigid peering down from the top of the large bookcase. He was too far away to read an expression – though a the reading of the face of a plushie penguin is arguably a lost art in itself – and Jack was not surprised when Frigid simply stepped off of the dusty bookcase top and fell with a gentle _plop_ before him.

Brown eyes and iridescent orange eyes met briefly, and then Frigid the Beanie Bay shook his head. Seeing Jack approached, the room quieted slightly. It was enough for individual shouts to be made out.

The very miniature Frodo Baggins: "You're a bloody coward! What're you trying t' do?"

One pink flamingo and one large-eyed frog Beanie Baby in unison: "Have you lost your mind!"

A voice out of sight: "Find his receipt and send him packing!"

Brightly colored letter magnets on a white board near what Jack could only assume was The Girl's bed swirled about momentarily. They then firmly arranged themselves into words Jack did not understand: "G-A-R-A-G-E S-A-L-E."

And then there was Frigid.

"I don't understand you, Jack." He waddled through the carpet until he was face to face with the pirate. "Honey, what made you do something like that?"

Jack, though far from comfortable, was unapologetic. "I don't understand _you_, mate. What stops you from doing something like that?" He gestured up and around the room. "What stops any of you?"

Frigid raised his feathered yellow brows. "The Girl - "

Jack snorted. "No doubt, friend."

" – and our love for her," finished the penguin, and Jack's retort died in his throat. "There is no place that we would rather be than here, with her. No place that we _could_ be."

Jack found his voice. "You could be free! You could be gone from this place and into one that is so much bigger and with so much more! There is a world out there, my monochromatic friend, filled with wonder and fantastic adventure and living with … " The pirate trailed off when he caught Frigid's headshake.

"That," he said, "is not a world that you are part of at all, Jack. You belong here."

Livid disbelief: "Here?"

Gentle certainty: "Here."

And the explosion: "Ye _gods_ animal! Who do you think you're talking to? I'm a captain. I'm a pirate. And I'm a _man!_ You were made by someone in order to keep a child from crying, while I – I was once a child! I'm not the same as any of you! I have a life and memories. I can … I can tell you what the moon's reflection looks like on a summer ocean at night! I can tell you at least nineteen ways to empty a woman's pockets while giving her a kiss! I can tell you of men and women who would rather have salt and wind on their lips than bread! And I can tell you those things - " he cried, "because I have seen them and done them and known them _in a life outside of this place!_ This place is a dream and a vision. And if it isn't, then I _don't_ belong here." Jack's hands and voice shook.

There was silence in the room, and then there came a rough, slightly muted chuckle. "Are you finished? You should certainly feel better now that that's out of your system." It was Frigid's turn to go wide-eyed with shock but Jack did not recognize the voice that had suddenly spoken. The quiet in the room had changed from one of angrily-bitten lips to one of hushed awe. Jack was suddenly tired, and nearly without patience for the practices of these bizarre natives.

He lifted his lip in a snarl and drew breath to reply, but wordlessly, Frigid hooked his soft flipper around Jack's wrist and tugged. The pirate followed, making it clear with lofty chin and pistol in hand that he was neither resigned nor defeated, but curious. Frigid led him – slowly with his short legs through the thick carpeting – around the wooden corner of the bookshelf until the pair stood before a mammoth door. It was slightly ajar. The inside was black.

"The closet," Frigid said after a moment. He looked up at Jack. "No one goes into the closet, but – it seems that you've been called. Go on."

Jack's hand tightened around his pistol. He peered into the darkness before him. "No one goes in, eh? I suppose it's haunted, then."

"No," Frigid replied simply. "It's holy." Startled, the pirate looked back down at the penguin. Frigid said nothing more. He gave Jack a little shove towards the opening in the door, then made no move to enter himself. Instead he stood where he was and appeared content to watch and to wait. Jack eyed the doorway again, then straightened his shoulders and walked towards the black opening.

* * *

Author's Note – 

_Sweetlilbee, Raistlin and Carine, you guys make me feel completely awesome. Thanks for always telling me to get writing (careful – I'll start to think that you enjoy it or something). LinLin is beyond thanks because she makes me feel like a rock star and her baby is the most darling little thing I've ever seen (here's hoping she grows up to be a proper lil' pirate there, mum). Hobbit Lass and Captain Tish, I'm loving that you two love what is going on. My apology for how long it took to get this up (I'm sure Redberry can sympathize) and I'm very much pleased with what I hear abouther decorating. _

_Cheers with our action figures, AaidenKae! (_bops Jack against Legolas) _and thanks for the kind words! Hope you enjoyed the update, anonymous Girl, and I hope you come back just like Spoofmaster did, because her review made my day. And finally, no worries Calliope – as always …_

_More to come! I lurve reviews! They are the cinnamon sprinkles in my no-foam latte!_


	6. The First

Jack the Action Figure

**Chapter Six – The First**

The Girl's room had not been brightly lit, but even so, it took Jack's eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the closet. There was an old, sweet smell to the dark place, like ancient scented candle wax, and it was utterly silent until Jack's summoner shifted slightly in the dim above. When he could see, Jack made out the sheer wall of an enormous box before him, and looked up to see more of the same piled up and out of sight.

With an effort, he began to climb, and as he climbed, the dusty, rumbling voice that had called out to him before began to hum. Jack listened to the baritone melody while he climbed and was almost able to place the song. It was a tune from babehood, he knew, a ditty sung by a mother to a small child. To hear it from the certain throat of a closet monster instead of a gentle woman was strange to Jack, to say the least, but he had accepted stranger in the time since he had woken from his dream of smudged eyes and white walls.

The tune ceased when Jack scaled the sixth and final box, a box that had been wedged to fit snugly against the wall. It was darker in the top of the closet, but there was a substantial aisle of light in the sweet-smelling shadows – one that came from the wide crack that the mammoth door was opened. Jack's summoner moved into this light with a low laugh. "I'm pleased you've come to see me."

The speaker was a blind brown bear.

Or, he was at least the _shape_ of a bear. Nearly twice Jack's size, he balanced on two thin legs that became a threadbare furred tummy, which in turn eased into two mottled arms. One was slightly shorter than the other. If not for the bear's pleasant greeting, his face might have terrified the pirate. The once-shiny nose on the end of his snout had been buffed and buffeted beyond gleaming, and one rounded ear seemed to have been torn not completely in half and stitched back together. However, no such repairs had been attempted on the bear's eyes. There were none. In their place were protruding remains of black thread.

A mouth, stitched in black underneath the bear's snout, eased into a smile and separated slightly. "Please, do come and sit with me. I'm sorry if I look … a little worse for wear. I'm very old, you see." Jack approached the bear cautiously.

He reached out a tentative ringed hand. "May I?"

"Of course, if you wish."

He stroked the bear's dusty fur. It was thin, but velvet soft. Jack suddenly understood. "You – you were The Girl's first toy, weren't you?"

The bear croaked another laugh, sounding pleased. "I was, my boy. I certainly was." He eased himself into a sitting position – Jack had failed to notice that his limbs were jointed – and sighed. The pirate noted that it was a sigh of satisfaction and nostalgia … it was far from a sigh of sadness. He joined the bear on top of the box. From where he sat, he could see the majority of The Girl's room – and her bed – out of the closet's opening, but it seemed very far away.

"I was created," began the bear in a voice polished by long storytelling, either heard or practiced, "by a being known as Grandmother. She was very old herself when I was made, so perhaps I was formed imperfectly, but that made no matter. I was formed with love for a new infant, and as you rightly said, I was the first possession of The Girl. I was honored with being the first to have her as my charge." He smiled a stitched smile. "That is an honor I hold to this day. I was the first."

Jack nodded towards The Girl's room. "Then why aren't you there now?"

"Oh, everything has its time and purpose, young man," replied the bear. "I watched her grow. I whispered stories and songs in her ear while she slept. I kept evil dreams away. That was why I was created and why I was so loved. I couldn't be prouder of what she has become. There is no greater privilege for a toy than to have the opportunity to see our child blossom and grow." The bear put a nearly-formed paw on Jack's shoulder. "_You've_ come into her life at a time when she is deciding what it is that inspires her. You are a pirate?"

"I certainly am."

There came another creaking chuckle. "Then it would appear that what she has decided to be inspired by is freedom and courage, yes? Is it not flattering to be the object of such choice?"

"It would. If I were a toy."

"Ah, yes. I heard your … vocal misgivings on the subject."

"Do you have a name?" Jack asked suddenly. The bear was slightly taken aback.

"Me? I can't say that I've thought about that in a long while – but, no. No, I don't believe I was given a name." Jack tucked his pistol into his belt.

"Then it's going to be a stretch for you to understand how I truly feel, friend," said the pirate. "My name is Jack Sparrow, and that's who I am. When I think about that – when I think about _me_ – and everything that I've been and done and seen and won, it's impossible for me to accept that all I am is a toy. I can't be – because I'm Jack Sparrow."

"You certainly are," agreed the bear. "And that proves precisely that you are a toy. You are a Jack Sparrow toy. Listen to me, son. If you did not have the memory and the mind and the charm of Jack Sparrow, you _could not be_ _a Jack Sparrow doll_." The bear smiled again, but this time his smile was a trifle sad. "Your problem, I think, lies in thinking that there is something wrong, something _inferior _about your current lot in life. You are not one human person, limited and insignificant. You should find celebration in knowing that there are many more like you, and that they all provide happiness and pleasure. They stand, as many they stand, for freedom and courage, as you do, Jack."

Jack said nothing. The old bear let him sit in silence. He assumed – wrongfully – that Jack was merely mulling this new revelation over and trying to come to grips with the fact that he was not, as he so desperately wanted to believe, a wronged man of flesh and blood, but that he was a toy. He was one of hundreds just like him. But Jack wasn't thinking of ways to come to grips with it. He was thinking of ways to _grip_ it. And ways to _wield_ it.

While they were sitting, The Girl entered the room again. Through the gap left by the open door, Jack could see her cast about briefly for him, shake her head, and then open a book and lay on her bed. She read for a few minutes and then fell asleep with the book perched open on her chest.

The pirate spoke after a time. "I don't understand something."

"And what is that?"

"You were The Girl's first toy. Everything – everyone else in this room holds you in the utmost respect, and respect is what you certainly deserve. So why are you in here? Why aren't you out there with them and with her?"

The bear thought for a moment, then laughed gently and patted Jack on the shoulder. "Don't you worry about me, son. As I said before, my time is past."

Jack was indignant. "If she is as wonderful as everyone seems to think, she would welcome you. I'll bet she even misses you, mate." The old bear smiled again. He was blind, and had not seen her enter the room.

"I'll admit to you that it would certainly be something to be held again, young pirate. That it would be. But I'm from another time. I'm so proud of her, but all I would do is distract her and remind her of times long past. She's grown now."

"Exactly!" Jack agreed.

"Exactly what, son?"

"You'd distract her!" Jack cried, and in one smooth motion he clasped the paw that the bear had placed onhim, leapt to his feet, and in a supreme effort of balance and positioning, hurled the thin old bear over his shoulder and through the gap in the closet. The ancient brown bear flew through the air, light and dust covered, to land softly on The Girl's sleeping chest.

Jack did not see him land. After he threw, he stepped to the edge of the box mountain (_only a toy,_ he reminded himself wildly, _clay and paint – and clay and paint can't be killed_) and leapt off. He landed, after a bounce, at the bottom of the closet, and it was then that he heard the renewed – but brief – uproar of the room inhabitants. He sprang out of the dark closet, eyes on The Girl, who had begun to stir when the bear landed on her chest. There was sudden silence as she blinked and yawned – and saw him.

She squealed with delight. "Where did you _come_ from?" she cried, and clapped him to her chest. "I haven't seen you in ages!" Her book, forgotten, fell to the floor in a heap of pages. And that was not all that was forgotten in joyous reunion of best childhood friends.

Jack Sparrow – action figure, $18.99 – bolted through the unwatched doorway and out of The Girl's room.

* * *

Author's Additional Scribblings – 

_Many thankies – not hankies, those are different – to the people who take the time to review. Carine and Sweetlilbee should be especially thanked for hurrying me along with proverbial cattle prods, because it's summer and I should be writing! And have no worry ladies – a certain other story about a certain pirate and a certain quatripirate tournament is in the works to be updated._

_Hobbit Lass, your keen observation about Sam has made me check the ears of my own LotR action figures and I completely agree with you! No pointed ears! But maybe, just maybe – and this is only my ridiculous amount of watching the movie with the actors' commentary on that makes me able to jump to this conclusion – that the makers of the toy took Sean Astin's complaints about the ears so seriously that they 'left them out' on his doll? It could be. I'll ask Mr. Astin next time I see him – I mean, I've got his autograph so that practically makes us roommates._

_I'm so proud that there are other Jack-Figure-owners out there, CaptainTish! The amount of detail on him is completely awesome (I love especially his little rum bottle) and the fact that there are multiple Jack owners out there may just come into play in this story in the future – so I would listen for sudden shouts. Thanks for the compliments WCSPegasus, and I hope you'll return for more, because this little yarn is far from over._

_LinLin, it is beyond flattering that my stories are being read to such sweet little ears as Anaya's – thank you so much! Thank you to Aaidenkae for warm wishes and luck for Jack, because he might just need it. I'm also happy that your action figure collection is growing! I hope that you liked the closet monster, Redberry, though he doesn't really have any teeth. And lastly, muchas gracias ZePuKa! I'm glad you've discovered this quirky little tale._

_More to come gang, and sooner rather than later! Don't forget to review – reviews are the marshmallows in the Lucky Charms of my day (but not the green hat ones, because I always thought that they were a little iffy). And smiles also for the people who wander into my story and wander out without saying a word or two - don't be shy! Besides, I have a hit counter now and I know you were here! ;)_


End file.
